"Home Again"

History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.
-Maya Angelou

Link felt neither relieved nor worried that the arduous, year-long journey had come to an end. He, in truth, couldn't make himself believe that it was truly over. The whole way back to Ordon, he'd still been looking out for some adversary waiting to spring an attack on him, but only spotted moblins, which now occupied their time by walking around aimlessly. A couple of them caught his eye, but only to turn away moments afterward, for they felt as resigned as Link himself, or so the hero thought. He sat on Epona outside of his house, but was reluctant to dismount her.

He knew that once he set foot inside of his home, he'd finally have to accept that there was nothing to do anymore besides work on the ranch and talk to the Ordonians. He thought it was funny, he'd worked so hard to save Hyrule, and dreamed of the day he would finally return home, and now… he wanted nothing more than to ride once more into Hyrule Field, with Master Sword in hand, protecting the kingdom with all the valor he could muster, which was an excess amount, after all he'd done.

He finally threw his leg over the mare, and jumped from her back. Once his dilapidated brown boots impacted the ground, he fell to his knees, and shut his eyes tightly. The Ordon sky was black and starry, and he knew it must be close to midnight, but he decided to remain where he was for a little longer, and just stare at the Triforce that still marked his hand, the only proof that the past year had even happened. He felt the urge to use his power on something, but opted against it after a moment's consideration.

There was no use for the magic anymore. It took all of his strength to rise from his position, and not because of the diluted soreness in his overstrained muscles. He took his time climbing his ladder, and opening the door. The house was dark and less than inviting, and cobwebs hung in most of the corners, as if no one had lived there for well over a century. Link sniffed the grimy air, and knew that he'd have to clean sometime in the near future. He discarded the thought, and made his way back up to his bedroom.

Everything was exactly as he'd left it, save for the dust particles that coated everything. He raised the quilt on his bed, and inspected it before shaking the dirt from it. He coughed a couple times, but other than that, there was no noise in the residence. Link did the same with his pillow before lying down, and attempting to sleep.

After a while, he found that no matter how tired he felt, the thoughts swirling in his head prevented him from doing anything of the sort, so he allowed himself to think for a while instead. He mainly reminisced on the final visit to the Gerudo Desert, the very conclusion of everything. Midna had departed, and so had Princess Zelda. Link wondered if they were also having a hard time adjusting back to the way things were, and then hoped it would get easier tomorrow, when the sun was shining, and the people he'd grown up with were out and about.

On that thought, he succumbed into some sort of slumber, only to be presented with dreams of his quest. It was only bits and pieces of it, mainly uneventful things like killing a bobokin, or finding a Tear of Light, but the dreams comforted him in a way he could not explain, and he did not understand why he felt more at home there than in his own bed.

The sky was dawning when he rose from his bed, and his body felt better than it had in a long time, despite the flurried rest. He rose quickly, and quietly, and began to make his way through his filthy home, heading for the door without a second thought. He didn't know where he was going, but knew he couldn't remain here for the rest of the day. Once he was outside, he leapt onto Epona's back, startling her a bit.

"It's okay, girl," he spoke to her while stroking her mane, and she perked up. He stifled a laugh, and knew she was acclimating as well. He grabbed the reins on his horse, and led her wordlessly out of Ordon. He wanted to stand in a Spring, out of the desperate hope that the Light Spirits would rise out of it once more, and tell him his escapade was far from over. On that whim, he pulled Epona into the Faron Spring and stood in its Crystal Waters. As expected, nothing happened, but the importance of the place made the distraught hero feel better.

Ilia rose from her bed and sauntered down the steps, as she had for the past two weeks of her life, at the very peak of dawn. In her hands were a torch, and the old diary that she had been carrying around. It wasn't her journal, but Link's. She'd gone in his house looking for him among the first days of her return, and found it lying idly on his table. She'd grabbed it at first on impulse, and vowed to not read it, only to have for the sole reason of feeling Link's presence once more, but she'd read it. The last entry dated back to the day before Link was set to deliver Ordon's gift to Hyrule, the day before she and Colin had been kidnapped.

He'd been in love with her then. Ilia had as well, and she knew that she felt for him, so she clutched to the journal with fleeting hope that maybe he still felt the same, and that it would bring him back to this small province. She couldn't be sure.

Ilia halted in front of his house, and let the disappointment sear through her. Epona was not here; Link was not back. With every day that passed, she'd lost more and more faith that he'd ever come home. She climbed his ladder, and walked inside of his house, not caring how rude it was anymore. It was as vacant of a home as it had been yesterday, and the day before. She wiped a tear from her eye, and used her arm to swipe the dust off of his picture.

It was of him. He was standing in the Ordon Spring, giving a kind smile to whoever held the pictobox. A pang of despair rang Ilia's insides as she looked into Link's lively eyes. Somehow she knew these times were gone forever, even if Link did come back again. She didn't know exactly what Link had been doing during the downfall of Hyrule, but she did know that he was important to its restoration, and that he'd seen hard times. Ilia didn't doubt that he'd killed after seeing the mysterious amethyst sword that hung from his back on their last encounter in Kakariko Village. She'd had that day committed to memory, knowing she couldn't forget it, even if she attempted to. She remembered the strange, green outfit Link had worn, and the bravery that seemed to exude from him and into his surroundings. Mostly, she remembered what he'd arrived as, the messenger from the heavens.

Renado had told her a fragment of what that meant, so she knew he'd been to the sky doing something, she was yet to know what. She'd also heard several stories from the village children telling her of how he'd saved them from monsters, and how much they loved him. However, she didn't know if it was exaggeration of what had really happened, seeing as they were children, after all. She'd hoped he'd come back and answer her questions as to some of the tales she'd been told, but had no such luck. Eventually, Ilia tore her gaze away from the photo, and swallowed the tremendous lump in her throat. She was becoming used to it now, the feeling of loneliness, that is. Link had been the one she'd grown up with, she knew, but she also was accepting that she was now the one he'd left behind, and it hurt her.

Even knowing this, she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him, for she knew there was a reason he was not back. Her ignorance was bliss as she let herself assume that he may still be helping people somewhere, and that he intended to return home the next chance he got. With resignation, she left the house, and stood at the entrance to the woods, which was another thing she did daily, and people were beginning to think her crazy for doing so. She lingered for the sole purpose of her desire to see Epona speeding back.

Link sat in the spring's water without caring that his trousers were soaked. The cool water felt good to him and he liked how it relaxed his nerves. He had been right in his thinking last night, today had been slightly better than yesterday, but only because he was here rather than in his village. He knew he'd eventually return back to Ordon, and his life would fall back into some type of order, but it would never be the same as it had been before.

He was not cynical enough to think he could never be happy again, because he knew the effects of his journey would wear off. After all, time does heal all wounds, but Link would never forget. Right now, he tried to figure out what was the true wound that time would heal. Between the physical cuts and scrapes, the sights he'd been forced to see, the loss of duty, or the loss of a companion for that matter, something had gone horribly wrong. Link was no longer himself.

He felt Epona nudge his back, and he turned to give her the first smile he'd smiled in close to two weeks.

"Always an impatient horse," he murmured to no one in particular, and stood to look in her eyes. She neighed and kicked some water at his shins, as if she was telling him to cheer up. He rolled his eyes, and flicked her nose, trying for some normalcy. She sneezed and he hugged her neck, and buried his face into her mane.

"It's over."

Fado placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. Ilia turned to look at him, and she tried feebly not to sigh at her discontent.

"He's not back, is he?" asked Fado in a grave voice. Ilia shook her head. Fado ruffled a hand through his messy hair and focused his brown eyes on something that Ilia couldn't see. They both stood in silence, and he began to pat her arm, as if he were trying to console her. It almost worked, but she was yet to smile.

"Everyone misses him, you know? Everyone loved him."

"I know," Ilia whispered.

"This town is basically a ghost now that he's not here. He was the life of Ordon," Fado informed Ilia, and removed his hand from her skin, "but I think it's for the best that we try and heal, else our lives will be miserable."

Ilia disregarded his remark, and asked him another question.

"Do you think he'll come back to us, Fado?" her voice sounded like that of a small child wishing for something completely unattainable, but she did not care. She needed some hope, even if it was false hope. He exhaled.

"I don't think I can say that for sure. Only time will truly tell what his decision might be," he had become slightly wiser since the time of twilight, and he was trying his hardest to try and console the villagers that awaited his return, including Ilia.

"It's not fair, Fado," Ilia whimpered, "why did the one who held us all together have to be the one to leave us?"

"No one knows why he left, Ilia. He just did."

"He left to save me, and the children," Ilia apprised him, "I know it!"

"We all know that. I was referring more to the fact that he hasn't come back yet. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have worded it that way. What I mean is, no one knows why he hasn't returned home to Ordon," he changed his worded, afraid he had offended Ilia.

"I don't know either."

"Why don't I walk you back to your home?" Fado asked her, "there's no point in waiting here, you'll drive yourself to madness if you don't try to find yourself again."

Ilia turned away, knowing his words were nothing but the truth, even though she hated them. She resented that she may not see the one she loved ever again, even more now that she knew it was most probable thing that would come her way. However, she did not resent Fado, so she chose to accept his suggestion, and she followed him back into the village. It was a sunny day, but she barely cared. It felt as icy as winter as far as she was concerned, or anyone else.

It was as Fado said, Ordon was a ghost town.

It was late in the evening before Link chose to go back home, but only because he disliked being in the woods at night. He wasn't afraid of it, as any sane person would be; he just found sleeping on the ground very uncomfortable. It left a certain ache in his bones that a morning stretch couldn't relieve. He'd had to do it most nights he was with Midna, so he knew firsthand. His sodden boots slopped in the grass as he walked up to Epona. Link finally regretted not taking them off before he stepped into the water, but knew he couldn't do anything about it but make a better choice next time. He'd be home soon anyways.

He wondered slightly how the residents of Ordon were faring now that he'd made it safe for the children and Ilia to go home to their families. He figured that they were happier. Then again, who wouldn't be? He partly wished he could've made a grand homecoming when they did, but he'd had to return the Master Sword back to the Pedestal in Sacred Grove to permanently seal away the evil, and also a piece of who he was.

The Master Sword had completed him, and now it was gone.

He stopped thinking about it when Epona began to gallop back to Ordon. The wind in his long, golden hair was the thing that helped him not to think about anything. When he got back home, it wasn't quite as bad as it had been last night. He figured he was already mending from everything, and was thankful for such. He reckoned while he was sitting in the Faron water, that he may not be saving the world anymore, he could still explore it. The thought in itself made Link smile, and walk into his house with some form of purpose. Perhaps he had not experienced all that life had in store for him just yet. When he stepped inside of his house, he started tidying up right away, after he changed back into his Ordonian attire.

It was a long process, but it was the next step that he'd have to take in order to regain his composure. He spent hours on end dusting, and organizing his scattered belongings. He restored the wood in the fireplace, and lit a fire in the midst of his kitchen to cook cinnamon pumpkin stew. It wasn't his favorite dish, but it was one that he had ingredients for, and it also made the house smell once more like home. For a moment, Link had never saved Hyrule. He'd been in Ordon all this time.

At least, that's what it felt like to be Link.

After he ate, he went on a search for his journal, with a new goal in mind. He wanted to draw all of the sights, and write down everything about his adventure, even if it was only for his own amusement. He was disappointed when he couldn't locate where his old journal had gone, he was sure he had left it here.

With a sigh, he grabbed a fresh one from his bookshelf, and afterward, assumed it was probably better to start anew anyways. Wasn't that what he'd have to do with his whole life, anyways? He grabbed charcoal, and his pencils from a cabinet, and intended to draw at least one image and write one story every night before he went to bed.

He would write down beginning to end.

He started with the kidnapping of his friends in the Ordon Spring, the very commencement of Link's expedition. Link took time to describe everything he'd seen, heard, and most importantly… felt. His emotions made that year what it had been. His drawing depicted Ilia and Colin being taken away by the beasts. He'd spent a considerable amount of time drawing just the monsters in the picture, making sure he got every single detail right, down to the last grimy cloth.

It was all he could do to make it up to his bed after he was done with him "home-making" as some would call it, he felt like his limbs could fall off at any given moment. He still felt a bit of remorse as he lay in his bed, but he figured the sadness would always be there.

There was nothing he could do to cure himself of heartache.